


Fuck the Mob

by Saynto



Category: Original Work, original slash - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Spanking, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:54:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4777739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saynto/pseuds/Saynto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here's what Kevin will say in court: Dominic showed up at the arcade uninvited. Dominic was the one who initiated the relationship. Dominic was a fucking creep. And above all-Kevin had no fucking clue Dominic was part of the Mob. Not one. fucking. clue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was started to let off some steam, to explore kinks, etc--for that reason, the characterization and writing quality is a little spotty at first heh. But I think I find my stride in later chapters.

 

 

"Pervert?"

Kevin was on his way to the back room, arms full with a box of miscellaneous wires, when the words of his employee stopped him mid step. He wasn't sure if he heard right over the din of the arcade games and pounding music, so he set the box down on the counter and leaned in towards Mike. "What?"

Mike nodded over Kevin's shoulder. There were some kids at the bowling simulator game but they weren't doing anything wrong, so Kevin was about to rip Mike a new one for wasting his time. Then he saw the man standing inside the alien shooting game, which had a pod covering half the man's body. "How long's he been here?"

"Like two hours, man. He's been hogging Alien Invade. That has to be like twenty bucks, right?"

Kevin scratched his ear. "More like a hundred." He heard Mike let out a low whistle. "Take this to the back," he said, pushing the box forward.

"Sure thing," Mike said, face falling. He obviously had wanted to watch the impending confrontation between Kevin and the stranger. But, if things went good, there wouldn't be a confrontation. Kevin would ask the man's business, and hopefully Kevin would like the answer.

He went over there, crossing his arms over his plaid shirt. The man couldn't see him from under the pod. To his benefit though, it seemed like he was actually into the game. No cursing or anything, just little grunts of displeasure when he lost a point, but his body was tense. When the end game song played, Kevin rapped his knuckles on the pod.

The man tossed the console gun at the holder and missed. Kevin frowned as it swung from its cord, but didn't say anything as the pod was pushed up and the man's face came into view.

_Now there's a mean son ova' bitch,_ Kevin thought to himself. The man had day old stubble and a scare sliced down the corner of his lips. His bangs fell over his sharp eyes in sleek strands, but the rest of his hair was gelled. He was wearing a suit with a simple cut, no tie and the collar undone to reveal a bit of chest hair.

"Everything alright?" Kevin said lazily, jutting his skinny-jean clad hip out.

The man still had his hand up on the pod. Even in the suit, it was obvious he was packing some serious muscle. Kevin and his bony body would be creamed if anything went down. Not that Kevin thought there would be a fight, but he had to keep it in mind.

"I'm good," the man said lowly. He stepped down from the platform, and Kevin found that he was still looking up.  _Tall, mean son ova' bitch._

"Is there a problem?"

Kevin sniffed, glancing around the arcade. It was 4PM, so there were a few high school kids around. Not many young brats. "Just wondering if you were enjoying yourself, Mr—"

The man grunted, but Kevin saw a faint flicker of amusement in his brown eyes. "Dominic."

"Mr. Dominic," Kevin replied. The man's lip curled up. "I'll cut to the chase here. We don't usually get grown men hanging around."

The man slid his hands into his pockets, and then his gaze travelled up Kevin's body—lingering around Kevin's lips. After that pause, he finally made eye contact with Kevin and cocked his head. "Is that right?"

Kevin frowned.  _Is this asshole trying to mess with me?_ He took a step forward, getting into the man's space. "We serve up entertainment in the form of video games, Mr. Dominic. So if you have something else in mind, then get the fuck out of here."

Considering Kevin, the man smirked. "And if I don't?"

_That's it._ Kevin made a move, but in the flash of an eye, he found himself being dragged up onto the platform, and then the man was lowering the pod down over their bodies. It was a tight fit, but Kevin was shoved back, his head near hitting the pod if it weren't for the palm cupping his hair, taking the brunt of the blow. Next thing he knew, lips were pressed against his. He let out a grunt of protest.

The hand groping his crotch woke him up. He shoved the man away, and wiped roughly at his lips. "What the fuck—"

In the glow from the game screen, he could see the man was smirking again.  _Bastard._ Even so, Kevin's heart was pounding.

"Listen Boss Man," the guy said, holding his hands up placatingly, "I really am here for the games. But if you're offering something else…"

Kevin knew he was a little too slow to respond—that space of silence had the man grinning. But finally Kevin was able to bark, "I'm not." And then he knelt out of the pod without pushing it up and strode as quickly as he could, while maintaining some dignity, to the back room. Inside, he shoved the door closed and then went to his desk, bracing himself on the edge. "Fucker," he said roughly.

In the three years that he had been sole owner of the arcade, Kevin had only had to deal with a handful of bad apples. Most of them were the creepy older man sort, they sat on the driving game chairs, half hidden in darkness, and watched the kids. The second their hands disappeared in their pockets, Kevin would go over and ask what was up. Usually they ran off the second they saw him coming.

But this guy left Kevin feeling rattled. He sank down into the office chair, dropping his head back to stare at the cracked ceiling.

He owned the arcade, but only because it was given to him. Since he was twelve years old, wearing pokemon shirts and velcro laced sneakers, he would come to Frankie's Game Port and play for hours. He loved the newer arcade games, the ones trying to compete with at-home consoles by using cool gimmicks, like Space Invade's immersive experience pod.

He and Frankie had struck up a slow-burn friendship, slow because Frankie had to be patient while Kevin slowly pulled his head from his ass during puberty. Around seventeen, Kevin chilled out and Frankie started to teach him how to fix glitching consoles.

Back then, Kevin hadn't realized he was an apprentice being trained to take over the master's shop. He was struck dumb when he was invited to Frankie's reading of the will. He learned heartbreak when he saw he was only one there. The lawyer combed over the documents handing the arcade over to Kevin, making sure Kevin understood all of it. The building was his, the games were his, everything was his. All paid off.

Thinking of weirdos bringing a taint to his turf made Kevin scowl. He should have asked for that man Dominic's ID.

The door to the office creaked open, and Kevin glanced over. Mike was leaning in. "You ok?"

"That guy gone?"

Mike nodded. "Walked out after you talked to him."

Kevin tried to detect if there was any mockery in Mike's voice, wondering if he had seen what happened between Kevin and Dominic. But Mike was a good kid, even if he came in high sometimes, and he probably wasn't prone to making fun. He actually seemed genuinely concerned, wonder of wonders for a teenager.

"I don't think he'll bother the kids," Kevin said with a sigh. Mike nodded and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

**oOoOo**

Kevin loitered down the instant food aisle at the convenience store near his shit-hole apartment. He wanted Shin Ramyun, but settled for some good ol' Maruchan, knowing he had sriracha sauce waiting in the fridge. As he headed to the cash register, he grabbed an apple from the pathetic fruit and veggie rack just to quell some residual guilt from a phone call he had with his mom that morning about how he probably wasn't taking very good care of himself.

In his opinion, he took very good care of himself. He got up in the morning, brushed his teeth. He pulled clothes out of the hamper-but they were clean, having never made the journey to his dresser. After a breakfast of coffee and a handful of off-brand cinnamon toast crunch, he would amble the two blocks to the arcade.

He wasn't dead, right?

The convenience store was a block from his house, and a block from the arcade, fully living up to its name. In the mornings, it was a can of Monster. In the evenings, it was ramen. So, yeah, maybe Kevin felt like shit most of the time, but he couldn't be assed enough to care.

He shuffled his way up the stairs to his apartment, shoved his bent key into the lock. The door had be shoved open, and slammed shut, but finally he was home free.

The place wasn't too crappy. One bedroom, a full kitchen (not that he used it). It impressed the college boys he brought home sometimes.

"Fuck." Kevin tossed his keys on the counter. Just thinking of boys brought back the memory of his run-in with the creepy dude that afternoon. The kiss still seared on his lips.

_Forget it._ He plugged in the electric kettle, crunched the noodles, and poured them in. Then he sank his teeth into the apple, and went to his room to shuck off his shoes. The shirt and pants went next, and then he sauntered back out into the living area in just his Star Trek briefs-Ryker's lips stretched against Kevin's cock.

Mostly he was just glad that guy wasn't there to stir up some shit. All the pedos Kevin had thrown out, had called the police on… those dudes were just sick, terrified little rodents. As for the guy from that afternoon, there was something about him. Like even though he had been smirking that whole fucking time, it was pretty clear that Kevin wouldn't enjoy the moment dude stopped smirking.

It made Kevin feel uneasy. He hoped the guy wouldn't come back.

Well, whatever. He pulled a can of beer from the fridge and popped the tab. He flipped the TV on.  _Reruns of Desperate Housewives_. He could work with that. Resting his hip against the counter, crossing his arms, he watched the ladies of Wisteria Lane as he waited for the ramen to boil.

**oOoOo**

"Fuck. Fuck.  _Fuck._ " Hung over and no poptarts. Kevin stared at the rack, and then shot a baleful scowl at the guy behind the cash register, who just shrugged.

Kevin glanced at his phone, and saw that it was noon already. On a fucking saturday. Frankie would have kicked his ass up and down the arcade for that kind of screwing around. Ruffling his hair, Kevin shook his head. Frankie was dead anyway, so who gave a shit?

"Christ." At that thought, he felt like a dick, and quickly headed out.

Slipping his legit Aviators on (he bought them on ebay for fifteen bucks, they had a scratch on the left lense), he gritted his teeth and headed down the street, shoulders hunched and hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans. He grumbled to himself. No matter how late he was, Mike sure as hell wouldn't be showing up until after two, and probably high as a kite.  _Sorry, Frank, you left your baby to a bunch of deadbeats._

But Kevin knew that wasn't true. Frankie had a plan. He had taught Kevin how to keep those noisy pain-in-the-ass machines running, and that's exactly what Kevin did.

He saw the arcade. It had a neon sign hanging out from the second floor the building:  _Frankie's Game Port,_ with a flying saucer doing a whirly-gig around the words. Upstairs used to complain about the noise, apparently, but then it was bought over by an urban storage locker company and there wasn't any fuss after that.

Kevin felt a little better walking up to the arcade. He owned that piece of shit full-up, no debts. Even if the last quarter had been wrung from the last nostalgic blowhard, he still had the land deed to his name. No college? No problem. He'd figure it out.

Running his tongue over his teeth, he chuckled self-consciously. Once again, he was blowing smoke. He'd fight for Frankie's, no matter what.

Frankie's had double glass doors that Kevin usually kept propped open. He'd also put out a sign, nothing fancy. It just said  _Arcade_ with an arrow. Kinda hoping that the sign would be out, and the doors would be open, he sighed with resignation when he saw the place was dark. Yeah, Mike was certainly a dream employee, that's for sure. Why did he even keep that kid around?

The age-old question was left unanswered. Kevin stopped short.

The fucking creep.

There he was, standing near the entrance, head bowed as he tried to light a cigarette behind his cupped hand. He shook out the match, tossed it to the ground, and then drew in a long puff.

He was wearing a suit again, this one was sleeker. The cut worked well with the dude's broad shoulders.

Kevin glanced around. The street was still pretty dead. He considered going back home, but he noticed some kids heading towards the arcade from the opposite direction. "Shit," he muttered. He kept moving forward.

When the guy-Dominic, he suddenly remembered—noticed Kevin, he straightened up with a smirk. "Boss man."

Kevin scowled, crossing his arms.

Grin widening, Dominic tilted his head towards the doors. "Sign says your hours are eleven to midnight on weekends."

"Fuck off, dude," Kevin muttered, shouldering past Dominic to slide his key into the lock.

"What happened to the 'customer is always right'?"

Kevin looked over his shoulder at that. Dominic had a small smile on his face, his eyes warm. He was just a little too close, closer than what was socially acceptable, in Kevin's opinion. Lip curling, Kevin shook his head. "I'm serious, fuck off."

By that time, the kids walking down the street were close enough to hear what was going on. One of them slapped an arm across the chest of another to stop him, and they all watched avidly.  _Shit._ Kevin stared at them, and then glared at Dominic. "Look. If you give it to me straight, right now-you tell me you're really just here to play games, I'll let you in. You cause shit? I call the police."

He watched as that warmth in Dominic's eyes sparked with amusement. There was a moment when Kevin thought the dude was gonna inch closer, but then Dominic side-eyed the kids, and sighed. "What can I say? I love video games."

"Yeah, yeah." Kevin pulled the door open, and nudged the door jamb down.

He walked inside, flipped the switches and watched as all the neon lights started to glow. With a whir, the audio system kicked into gear-some kinda techno-metal shit that Mike recommended blasting over the speakers.

Stretching his arms up with a grunt as he shuffled around the counter, he keyed in the code for the cash register, and then slouched down on the stool.

As Dominic passed by, he shot Kevin a smartass salute, grin plastered on his rugged face.  _Dickweed._ Kevin rolled his eyes, and then dug into his pocket to find his phone. Staring at the screen, he saw that Mike had texted him at 3AM:  _not comn in tmrow…...sry_

Dropping his pounding head back, Kevin closed his eyes. He was so gonna fire that guy.

He fell forward, resting his elbows on the counter. Yeah, sometimes running an arcade was boring as shit, not mention fucking loud. That's why he kept the painkillers under the counter, he took them around 3PM when the music was really starting to drill a hole in his skull. Letting out a long, annoyed sigh, he looked out at the arcade. And saw that someone was looking back.

Dominic was at the PacMan. He wasn't even fucking playing. He was just leaning back against it, arms crossed over his chest. He was smirking at Kevin, dark eyes zeroed in on Kevin.

Kevin almost bit his tongue, he was so fucking pissed. What did he do to deserve this chucklehead?

He slid off the stool, and stomped on over to Dominic. He got in real close, maybe grabbed the guy's collar. "Listen, man. You're pissing me off."

Being so close, he could smell Dominic's cologne. It was something smooth and rich. Something Kevin wanted to drown in.

_Fuck that._

Made angry by his impending boner, Kevin used the grasp he had on Dominic's collar to shove the man towards the door. "Just get out, dude."

Dominic held up his hands, but he stayed in place. "Did I do something, Boss Man?"

Still fucking grinning? Still with that asshole look on his face? Kevin growled, and shoved the man back. Only this time, the man caught Kevin's arm, and pulled him close. Hot breath on Kevin's ear, and then: "You have somewhere private?"

His cock, man. It reacted to that before Kevin had time to compute. This guy was so fucking… he was just thick, like with his body? Thick chest, big arms. Maybe older than Kevin. He knew what he was fucking doing. Kevin was like a twig, he knew that. He fucked around with other twigs. But this guy? He was creepy but hot, strong-Kevin wanted to see the muscles rippling under that Sears white dress shirt.

While he was fantasizing about all that like a fucking loser, creeper wrapped his arm around Kevin's waist and drew him in until their fronts were shoved together-their erections making acquaintance and all that.  _Christ,_ creeper had a fuckin giant metal pipe hidden under his suit.

Kevin exhaled. "Fuck."

The creep grinned. "What's in that back room?"

"A desk."

**oOoOo**

Morals? Well anyone should know Kevin didn't have many.  _Don't let the creepers touch the kids._

Nothing in there about making sure the creepers didn't bend Kevin over a desk, didn't tear his pants down and expose ass. Lay in a few smacks to make Kevin whimper.  _Fuck._

His ass stung. The creep had smacked him quite a few times, tearing heavy groans out of Kevin. Before Kevin could even recover, Dominic had slopped some lube over his asshole, and then said "Bear down, bitch."

He hadn't been kidding. He just pressed his thick cockhead against Kevin's hole, and it was up to Kevin to breath and cringe as that monster forced itself inside. " _Fuck,_ " Kevin cried, fingers curling on the edge of the desk. "Fuck you, you fucking—"

And then Dominic clasped his hips and started pounding. Kevin could just imagine that muscular ass clenching with the strain it took to power the strokes fucking into him. He yelped and moaned, spreading his legs and angled his ass up to make things easier. He heard Dominic chuckle. "I knew you were a cockslut. The bitchy ones always are."

"I'm not bi—" Dominic's palm bit against Kevin's ass, cutting him off again as he cried out.

Man, he was stone cold sober, so he felt every thrust of that thick cock inside his ass. On the surface, he felt it most where it stretched his asshole with a burning friction, but then that second feeling-the one of having a cock inside of his body—hit him, and he kept moaning. Dominic would spank him, and he moaned again.

"Touch me," he begged.

"Touch yourself."

Licking his lips, Kevin reached down to jack his cock. It had been dripping with pre-cum, making the slip and slide easier.

He bit his lip, scrunched his eyes shut tight. He was gonna come soon.

"Daddy's gonna fucking get you pregnant, bitch," Dominic grunted above him, "Breed you full, so fucking take it."

_Some fantasy._ Creep was wearing a sleeve, Kevin had made sure of that. But fuck, whatever. Everyone had their thing, and apparently spreading his seed was this guy's wet dream. Kevin was lost in his own haze of lust, striving for the cliff of that precipice, his balls begging for release.

Dominic came first, fingers digging in as he cursed, hips shuddering against Kevin.

Then Kevin's orgasm hit, jizz spurting against the side of his desk. He heard Dominic grunt, probably because Kevin's ass had just spasmed tight around the dude's cock.

After a second, one of those big hands released Kevin's waist, slid down his spine in a gentling manner, despite the fact Dominic was still buried balls deep inside. "I'd like for this to happen again."

What a fucking thing to ask while Kevin was still bent over his own desk with a cock shoved up his asshole, and his asscheeks probably flaming red.  _This guy is a dick,_ Kevin thought to himself,  _A fucking asshole creeper who spends all his fucking time at an arcade. No-job hack pervert asshole who likes spanking and breeding and—Christ he's probably a total psycho._

"Well?"

Kevin dragged the back of his hand over his lips, wiping away the drool. "Yeah," he muttered. "Alright."

Dominic's answer was a sudden withdrawal, sending a shiver up Kevin's spine, and then a sharp smack to Kevin's thigh. "Good boy," he said with a low drawl. "And next time—remember to fucking douche."


	2. Chapter 2

2.

Kevin heard the back room door open.

He was still fucking splayed out on the desk with his pants at his ankles. Shoving up, he nearly fell over as he scuttled away from view of the main arcade floor.  _Asshole! Asshole! Asshole!_

"Whoa, man."

 _Shit._ Dragging his pants on, Kevin kept his expression blank as he looked up at Mike, who was standing in the doorway. "I thought you weren't coming today?"

Instead of answering, Mike waltzed in, eyes glued to Kevin's fly. "Dude… what were you doing?"

"Nothing." Kevin waved him off, or at least tried to. Oblivious fucking Mike just stood there. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Kevin zipped his pants and tried to look nonchalant, sinking down on the tattered office chair. As soon as his ass hit the cushion, he was reminded, with a sharp sting, of what had just happened. He'd have to check later, but he was pretty sure that Dominic bastard had left bruises where he had gripped Kevin's hips. It was sore as fuck.

"Look," Kevin said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "if you're here for shift, I might leave."

"Yeah, man, whatever. It's cool."

Dubious, Kevin shot a glance at Mike. He looked half-baked. "Did you even mean to come into work?"

Mike shrugged, and then smiled in his puppy teenage way. Hell, that smile was probably the only reason Kevin kept him around—he was the epitome of the high school stoner boys Kevin had always crushed on since he was twelve years old.

...So why Kevin was letting some creepy, obviously dangerous older dude manhandle him? Who knew.

"You man the register, Mike. I'll just take a nap in here."

Mike gave him a smile and an upturn of the chin, and then left.

Licking his lips, Kevin shut his eyes and leaned back. He crossed his arms and thought to himself,  _At least I got laid._ It was a bit rougher than he was used to, and the fucking balls on that guy, Dominic—telling Kevin to douche for next time. Like there would even be a next time.

-#-#-#-

Dominic Ausiello nodded at the bouncer as he went from day to night—the manufactured night of Ladies! Ladies! Ladies! Strip Club.

The girls were alright, nice and plump where it mattered. But he still had that bony kid on the brain. First impression: the kid was annoying and Dominic was gonna lay him out for interrupting precious off time. That guy thought Dominic wanted to creep on the kiddies, what a fucking joke. But then those pouty lips caught his eye, and the rest was history… as they say.

Brat running his own arcade. Not something you'd see everyday. Dominic had looked into it after the first run-in and found out Kevin Winters had inherited the whole mess from a Frankie Stanlaw.

Dominic chuckled. Maybe that Frankie had been tasting the nectar and felt responsible. After all, Kevin had a tight little hole. Dominic could see how someone would leave their life's work to that sweet piece. Usually Dominic liked them nice and wholesome, American Apparel, Abercrombie, squeaky Ken-doll clean for him to make dirty. But here he had some (goth? Is that what the brats call it?) skinny-jean clad kitten, and it felt damn good making the baby purr.

Lip curling with self-satisfaction, Dominic sidled into his usual booth, and spread out, dropping his arms wide across the back of the laminate seat. Roly-Poly was already there, sipping on a ridiculous margarita.

"Christ," Poly laughed at him, voice loud to make up for the booming music. "Look at that canary in your jaw."

Dominic grinned. "It was sweet, Poly. Sweet like honey."

With those words, he practically felt like thrusting his hips up, the phantom feeling of Arcade Brat's asshole gripping him so desperately, wringing him dry. What a fucking sin it was having to wear a sleeve. He wanted to bareback that pale ass-make the hole puffy and pink, slap the cheeks red. "Ah, fuck," he groaned, cock stiff. His fault for dreaming. He adjusted himself, a sour look on his face.

Poly chuckled. "Did you get a number? You don't look satisfied."

 _Number?_ Dominic scratched the tip of his nose. He knew where the arcade was, so there wasn't any possibility of running for that brat. But then again, Dominic would appreciate the ease of a bed, the rush of a shower, the privacy…. fuck.

Dominic dropped his head back with a snort. It was too late. He was gonna fuck that brat again, his cock had already made the decision and now it was up to Dominic to corner Arcade Brat somewhere nice, somewhere decked out with the toys Dominic liked to inflict on unsuspecting boys. Palming his groin, he spread his legs.  _Fuck._ He'd have that guy crying, whimpering, shaking. Cheeks flushed. And oh-so needy.

"I have his number, alright." Dominic said.

Poly whistled. And then he sucked up some more margarita, and there was a noticeable shift in his demeanor, even with his sharp eyes focused on the chicks sliding around on the platform. "Listen, Dom. Marcus is coming in soon. I don't know when, but word is he's doing a full check-in this time. He'll probably want to talk to you."

Dominic grunted, his grin fading. "Where is he now?"

"Boston. He'll hit New York… probably around Christmas. Family, you know?"

"Yeah."

Nothing deflated Dominic's cock faster than then knowing he'd have to meet up with Marcus. When was the last time? Three years ago? Everything had been running smooth as butter at the status quo, so this must have meant changes on his end. He was coming to bring changes to Dominic's operation, that was for fucking sure.

-#-#-#-

"Man, come  _on._ "

Kevin glared at the convenience store clerk like it was his damn fault there wasn't even any Maruchan. Halfway through a can of beer—his third beer—Kevin was fullway to hating everyone, especially that dick, Dominic.

Eight days. This wasn't about second dates, this wasn't about blowing off, or anything clingy like that. This was about … Kevin's ass. Kevin's  _pride._ As in, was his ass not good enough for a repeat? Not like Kevin wanted the dude panting over him (ha.) but he had thought it all went really hot, hell—Dominic was all  _I'm gonna breed you, bitch,_ and shit. So Kevin was obviously a good enough fuck to inspire shitty, grandiose notions about male pregnancy, yeah?

"Here." He slammed down a packet of Oreos in front of the convenience store guy. "And tell your manager to fucking restock, this is ridiculous."

The clerk stared at him. "Dude."

Okay, so Kevin was being a dick. With a sigh, he put down a ten, grabbed the oreos, and walked out on to the dark street where he headed off towards his apartment. He chewed on his oreos, well first he pulled off the top of one oreo, licked the cream, then shoved the whole thing into his mouth, including the top piece.

"Fuuuuck," he groaned, sliding his hand up his belly, lifting his shirt to get some air. The humidity was going to kill him.

The second oreo, he took more time with. He carefully pulled off the top half and then ducked his head to slide his tongue up the cream.

"Yeah, baby." The voice was sardonic and deep. And right behind Kevin. Spinning around, Oreo still in his hand, Kevin gawked when he found Dominic standing behind him. The guy was wearing another suit, his dark hair slicked back. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, and he was grinning at Kevin like a predator.

Maybe on instinct, Kevin took a step back. When he did, he saw a spark in Dominic's eyes, that dangerous grin widening.

"You're a fucking creep," Kevin said, the words coming out clumsy, his tongue still thick from the beer.

Dominic didn't say anything back. He just made up the lost ground, stalking towards Kevin with obvious intent in his eyes. Grabbing Kevin by the arms, he reeled him in close. "You live around here?"

Under the light of a streetlamp, Kevin could finally see Dominic's face clearly. He had a black eye, his lip was split. "What the fuck happened to you?"

Dominic shook his head slowly. "That has nothing to do with you,  _piccolina_. Just tell me where you live, I'll walk you home, ok?" Kevin could see Dominic's canines as he smiled. "Daddy will get you there safe."

Even in a beer-induced haze, Kevin could still find it in himself to snort. "Creeper," he said, "you know that, don't you? You're a fucking creeper."

Fingers pressed against his arms, hard enough that Kevin was probably racking up a few bruises of his own. He felt Dominic's hot breath against his lips. "Yes, I do know that. I know a lot more than that, I know my patience. I know I came out here to this shitty neighborhood just to fuck your scrawny ass when I could have had something plump and juicy right at home. So was I wasting my time? Should I be getting angry with you, baby?"

A lot of Kevin's confidence drained away right then. He had some moral high ground before, thinking about what a creepy loser this guy must be, but with those strong hands holding him captive, he realized that maybe Dominic wasn't such a poser. His words sounded sincere. The threat behind them… sent a shiver up Kevin's spine.  _Who is this guy?_

Kevin's cock was hard, and a little more in charge than his drunk brain. "I don't know," he said suddenly—sullenly, his bottom lip jutting out. "I'm a little pissed, yeah? You made me wait eight days."

He heard a low  _heh._ " Oh, my little girl."

 _Fuck no._ Kevin slapped Dominic's grip away and tried to slide around him. He should have known better. But hey. He was drunk.

Hands grabbed his shoulders, dragged him back. He was shoved face first against the brick wall of the building they were next to. He grimaced, rough surface scraping against his cheek. One hand pressed in between his shoulder blades, the other— _SMACK._

"Fuck!" Kevin's eyes blew wide, his body jerking.

That was nothing,  _nothing_ close to the way Dominic had smacked his ass before in the arcade. That was full-strength, punishing… that was meant to make Kevin hurt. He whimpered, crossing his arms in front of his face, fingers curling against the brick, and wondered if he would make it home alive.

The hand against his back lifted. "Listen, brat. I'm in this kinda mood, and I'm looking for a compliant piece of ass to take it out on without cops getting involved. So. You in or out?"

Bleary eyed, Kevin slid around to his back, slumping slightly against the wall as he stared at Dominic. Those dark eyes were zeroed in on Kevin, watching his every move. Kevin licked his lips. "You gonna make me bleed?"

Dominic's lip curled, every inch of his expression saying  _I'm gonna make you scream._ "No," he said huskily, rubbing his thumb along the curve of Kevin's ear. "Not bleed. I'm not into that." He was so much taller than Kevin, standing right in front of him like that. He engulfed Kevin, he loomed over him like a fucking wall.

Kevin swallowed. "Ok."

-#-#-#-

Thank fucking god Kevin was too shit faced to feel stupid about his messy apartment. Hell, he probably wouldn't have cared stone cold sober.

And he wouldn't have time to care or not fucking care, anyway.

The second he pushed his door open, he was shoved forward, nearly tripping on his feet as a strong grip circled his arm and propelled him towards the couch. "Dude," he said, "I have a bed." But he was ignored, Dominic shoving and nudging him until he fell face down on his shitty couch and a knee dropped on the base of his spine.

"Fight me."

Kevin tensed. Turning his head, he looked up from the corner of his eye. "What?"

Dominic was over him, one hand resting above his shoulder. "I want you to fucking fight me, bitch. Every step of the way. I want you clawing at me and screaming and trying to clamp those slutty thighs shut, you understand?"

At that point, Kevin was panting with something very close to terror. "But you said—"

"I'm not gonna fucking make you bleed. I don't even have to hit you, you're a toothpick." Kevin felt Dominic's weight shift, felt his presence millimeters away—a hot breath against the back of his neck, and then a wet tongue. "I could snap your arm in half with barely a twitch."

Kevin rutted against the couch. He hadn't even realized he was so hard, and then his hips were working on their own, his cock needing friction.

"The fuck?" Dominic leaned away. And then his hand came down on Kevin's ass.  _SMACK—_ again— _SMACK_. Sucking in a pained yelp, Kevin shut his eyes, there were tear drops collecting at the corners. When a third slap landed, he cried out, and Dominic laughed a cruel laugh. "I didn't say you could fucking hump the couch, did I?"

"No, daddy."

 _Fuuuuuuuck._ Those words came out from some place that was not connected to Kevin's brain. Cheeks heating with some serious shame, Kevin pressed his nose against the couch. He wanted to sink right into the cushions, wake up and find that none of this had happened.

Dominic had stilled above him. And then Kevin felt a palm cup his ass. "You gonna be good for—" There was a low, amused huff of breath. "—daddy?"

Kevin angled his ass up, grinding it against Dominic's touch. Hell, if he was gonna go in, he might as well go all fucking in. And he knew what Dominic really wanted.

He kicked out, hitting Dominic's knee. There was a grunt above him, but Kevin was already slithering out from under him and making a break for the bedroom. Only about half a second passed before he heard the thudding footfalls of a much bigger, stronger man than Kevin. Even knowing it was play, his gut clenched with the feeling of being pursued.

In his bedroom, he tripped and fell on to the bed. "I'm sorry," he panted, holding his hand up in defense, "I'm sorry."

The bed dipped with Dominic's weight. A hand gripped Kevin's ankle and pulled him back towards certain doom.

Something clicked into place in Kevin's brain. Maybe it was his thundering heart, or the hands that were too strong to fight off, but suddenly he was hissing and spitting like a feral cat, dragging his nails down Dominic's neck, trying to get a good kick in. Suddenly everything was about making sure Dominic couldn't get Kevin on to his knees.

But he did. Kevin found himself twisted around, face shoved hard against the mattress. His shitty jeans and boxers were ripped away, muggy air hitting his ass. A palm hitting his ass—one cheek and then the other, over and over and over until Kevin was sobbing. His cock was so hard. His ass throbbed with pain. "Daddy…" he whined.

He heard something tear—thought it was a condom wrapper, and suddenly the terror of Dominic taking him dry washed over him, but just as suddenly he felt cool slick pour down his crack. Another rip—"Fuck," Dominic grunted above him. "We're gonna get you tested, baby. Ain't gonna deal with this sleeve shit choking me again."

And then the blunt tip of Dominic's cock pressed against Kevin's hole with zero warning. Kevin sucked in a surprised breath, nearly biting his lip when that cock shoved slowly in.

A hand slid down his spine. Dominic pumped slowly at first.

Kevin was all the way gone, his back arched and little simpering mewls escaping his lips. He could feel it in the way that Dominic was grasping his hips, by how rock hard Dominic's cock was—Dominic _wanted_ Kevin. All of this, Kevin had brought it out. Dominic had tailed after him, found him at the convenience store. Had purposefully scared him.

Something… something about that made Kevin's balls rise up, made his cock twitch—knowing that Dominic had wanted to hunt him down, had wanted force him into being this quivering mess he was. The cock riding into him was brutal. Once Dominic had made the initial slide in, he had just fucked and fucked, filling Kevin whole.

An arm wrapped around his front, pulling him up back-to-chest with Dominic and he cried out, sliding down fully on Dominic's cock. He was bounced up, slid down. Bounced up—slid down. "Fuck," he breathed, " _fuck._ "

He came first, every tension in his body releasing. Dominic kept fucking him after that. Like he was a rag doll.

He fell asleep before it was over.


	3. Chapter 3

"My ass hurts," Kevin whined.

Not like he was a baby or whatever. Mostly he was surprised that when he blinked his crusty eyes open, Dominic was still there. Yeah, not in the bed or anything, but he was sitting at the edge with his phone in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He was already dressed in his rumpled suit, leg crossed at the knee. Kevin couldn't see his expression. "I bet I'm  _bleeding._ "

A moment passed, and then Dominic turned his head to look at Kevin as he took a drag from his cig. After blowing it out, with his lip quirked, he said, "You're not bleeding, you little snot."

Kevin rolled to his belly, and rested on his crossed arms. "When did you stop? Last night." The last thing he remembered was that hot shove and pull, shove and pull. He did  _not_ remember Dominic coming. Or him coming.  _Asshole._ "I didn't come."

"Yes, you did." The words were said in an absent-minded grunt. Dominic had gone back to scrolling on his phone.

"I didn't, you fucking pervert. You fucked me till I passed out, and I didn't—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. A hand shoved his face straight into the mattress, and then in the next second— _whap!_ Dominic had smacked his ass, and Kevin let out a yelp of surprise (although it was muffled). He scrambled to escape, but that vicious palm landed on his naked cheeks again.

"Fuck, man!" he gasped, just able to turn his head. "I'm gonna call the cops."

"Yeah, right." Dominic chuckled as he shifted back over to the side of the bed. Kevin leaned up against just in time to see him slipping on a shoe.

Now Kevin's ass really did hurt. "You fucking spanked me."

"Yep." With a sigh, Dominic braced his knees, and twisted to face Kevin again. His morning stubble was hot… no getting around that. He had a tired smirk on his face. "You came, shithead. You try to deny it again, and I'll use my belt."

Kevin felt a shiver run down his spine. "Yeah right," he mumbled.

"Yeah right," Dominic repeated with a sigh as he stood up. He groaned when he stretched his back out. "You're a good, tight little fuck, I'll give you that. Maybe take a shower now and then, and we could have a regular arrangement."

Sidestepping that last part, Kevin sat up and scowled. "You saying I stink?"

Dominic considered him. "I'm saying—get your fucking act together. Clean your ass."

Pulling a face, Kevin just waved him off and flopped back down on his pillow. "Had no complaints before."

"Then you were fucking perverts." After a second, there was a low  _heh._ "Not that I'm a saint. You want me to do it for you?"

Kevin twisted around to glare at Dominic. "Fuck off, you creep."

"Uh huh." Dominic was still smirking as he did his tie. He nodded at his phone, which was lying on the bed. "Put your number in there."

Kevin stuck his chin out. "No."

"No?" Dominic turned fully towards Kevin and crossed his arms. "No?" he said again. "Like I don't already know where you live? Like I couldn't just bust in here at night and fuck you? I was willing to allow some courtesy—" He stopped, his grin widening. Probably because he saw the flushed, surly arousal on Kevin's face. "Brat, just put your number in the god damn phone."

Kevin was only able to hold out another second before he snarled, " _Fine,"_ and snatched the phone. He tapped in his number, and then very obviously started clicking around the contents. Before he was even able to open the text messaged, a hard weight dropped down on his spine, and he hissed. Dominic had shoved his  _knee_ against Kevin's back.

"Be a good boy," Dominic growled, and that's all he said.

Kevin handed the phone up. It was taken from his hand. The weight lifted, but not before a sharp  _whack_ landed on his ass. He winced, but bit his tongue to keep from yelping.

"Bratty little bitch, aren't you?" Dominic said lazily, staring at his phone. He clicked a button and then shoved it into his pocket as he eyed Kevin. "Well," he said. "I don't mind it." With that, he slipped his wallet out of his pocket, pulled a couple of bills from the fold, and flicked them towards Kevin—how saw a flash of Benjamin Franklin's face before they all fluttered to the mattress. "Buy yourself something pretty, ok?"

Kevin stared at the money. "You're… paying me? Like a prostitute?"

"No." Dominic was pushing his wallet into his back pocket. "I'm keeping my current sugar happy. You don't know how this works?"

"Do you know how this works?" Kevin replied.

Dominic's face when smooth. "You don't want it? Give it to the homeless. You want an iPad? Then go buy an iPad, or whatever it is you brats like these days."

Well… Kevin did want an iPad.

"Whatever, man," he muttered, sitting back against his headboard. "I'm not a kid. I have a job. I  _own_ an arcade."

"Yeah, yeah." Dominic was running his fingers through his hair. "And yet, you act just like those pretty little bitches at Starlight."

Kevin felt his own smirk forming. "Starlight? Like the club that allows eighteen year olds? You really are a perv!"

He sat up on his knees, cupping his balls and cock as he licked the finger of his other hand, and ran it up his sternum. Dominic just stood there and eyed him, but then Kevin gave a little wriggle of his hips, and then the other man was on the bed, pushing him back-first against the mattress. "So I like bony, little things?" Dominic growled against Kevin's ear. "Is that what you're saying?"

With a smug expression, Kevin wrapped his legs up around Dominic's waist. "Are you telling me you don't?"

Dominic just stared at him then, their eyes meeting. Kevin had no idea what was going through the guy's head—he was just frowning and watching. But then all of sudden he bent his head and pressed his lips against the curve of Kevin's neck.

"Ow, FUCK!" Kevin's eyes blew wide.

Dominic had  _bit_ him. Like pretty sure, if he touched the spot, there would be blood.

Leaning up, Dominic loomed over him with a self-satisfied expression. His eyes were dark with lust. "A bit of sass gets my cock hard," he said huskily. "You've figured that out. But you know what I  _really_ like, you little shit? I  _love_ beating that right out of a boy. I love breaking a boy 'till he's an obedient, sweet fucktoy."

"And then you get bored, right?" Kevin spat back.

Dominic cocked an eyebrow. And then he laughed. "You think you're the fuck I won't get bored with?"

Kevin slapped him across the cheek.

There was silence for a moment—one long, excruciating moment. Dominic's face was turned just slightly to the left, but then his eyes moved to meet Kevin's. He growled low in his throat.

But then his phone went off. They both jerked a little, and Dominic cursed as he pushed away from Kevin and moved over to bring the phone to his year. Kevin could see the tent in his pants.

"What?" Dominic snapped. He was getting off the bed and straightening his suit. Whatever he said after that sounded like unintelligible grunts to Kevin—even as Kevin strained to hear the conversation. Finally, Dominic said "Fine!" and then clicked the end call button. He stood there for a moment, his gaze not really focusing on anything in the room. "Fuck," he mumbled under his breath.

"What?" Kevin prompted. It seemed to remind Dominic that he was in the room.

"Nothing. I've got to go." And just like that, he stomped out of the room. Kevin was only a few second behind him, but by the time he got to the door, it was already closed again.

**-#-#-#-**

"Hello, Dom."

Dominic stood in front of Marcus, and cursed his bad luck. "Hey, Marcus," he said stiffly.

"Place looks good?" Marcus was sitting on the couch set up in Dominic's office, his arms stretched out across the back. "Seems to be running smoothly. I can see why my dad gave you the job."

Marcus was a man just coming out of brathood. Well—that was unfair. He was only a few years younger than Dominic, and twice as devious. Seeing as how his pops had a heart attack while screwing some chick that wasn't Marcus's mother about six months back… well, Dominic was looking at his new boss.

And his new boss was not what Dominic liked. Well-muscled, maybe just as built as Dom, he looked like he could pack a punch. It was good that Dominic could keep some distance from this one, considering he was such a fucking turn-off.

"Thanks," Dominic said levelly. And then, because he couldn't help it: "Thought we weren't expecting a visit until Christmas."

Laughing, Marcus just shook his head. "Sure, I know what the plan was. But I figured, since I wasn't doing anything—why not visit my dad's favorite city, right?" Marcus licked his lips. "But, uh—expansion? We ain't expanding at all?"

"We're doing good," Dominic replied, "No police looking into things, you know?"

"Sure." Marcus sighed sharp and hard. And then he stood up so that he was face to face with Dominic. "So. We're scared of the police?"

 _Fuck._ Dominic—truthfully—wanted to strangle this dickhead. Marcus didn't know shit about running a successful operation, he wanted things flashy and drug fueled like the movies, but prison was the only end game for that kind of crazy ass dream. Dominic liked things smooth and safe: money, and the freedom to spend that money.

Like on whimpery little brats.

 _This is bullshit._ Dominic had fully intended to fuck that Kevin at least one more time. Spread his bony legs wide and just  _shove_ into that tight channel while the brat screamed underneath him. And maybe if Dominic was feeling generous, he would let Kevin come one more time—even if he had tried to pretend like he had gone without the night before.

Cause, if anything, Dominic liked to spoil his brats.

"Dom?" Marcus was studying him, eyebrows raised in amusement.

Dominic blinked. "If you're trying to goad me, it's not gonna work. I run a smooth operation here, with no kinks, and we don't have trouble with the cops. We just bring in the cash."

Grin spreading, Marcus held out his arms amicably. "And that's what I want, Dom. No need to change what you've got going here, not if it's working. But, I'm just thinking—more. We could do more of what you're doing. Right?"

With that, he pulled a slip of paper out of his back pocket and handed it over to Dominic. "I had Poly make a list of places that would benefit from being bought out, ok?"

Dominic stared at the list. "Sure."

"Good." With that, Marcus sighed like he was planning to leave. "I'm in town for awhile, at the Carlisle Hotel. We should hit the town together one night."

 _Kill me now._ Dominic tried to smile. "You got it. Let me know when."

Marcus was already heading for the door, but he signaled over his shoulder that he heard Dominic. When he safely gone, Dominic rolled his eyes and flopped down on the couch with a grunt as he scanned the list of businesses. And then he frowned. Something had caught his eye.

**-#-#-#-**

_Belt._

Kevin imagined Dominic holding him down as he struggled—raising that belt up high and then bringing it down to mark an angry red line across Kevin's ass.  _Sweet, obedient fucktoy._

Well. Kevin wasn't obedient and he sure as hell wasn't anyone's fucktoy, so really the only smart decision would be to ignore this fucker from then on. For one thing, Kevin didn't know how much of it was real and how much of it was sex talk. Dominic had implied that he would just break into Kevin's apartment and force things… was that real?

Did Kevin want it to be real?

Did he want to wake suddenly to this weight on top of him, his arms pinned down. To feel his underwear ripped away in the darkness and hot breaths panted against his neck? Words telling him to  _be quiet_ and  _shut the fuck up._ How would he really react to Dominic breaking in and fucking him?

"Fuck…" Kevin groaned, dropped his forehead against his palm. He was sitting at the arcade's register and feeling all kinds of self-loathing. For real. What if he asked Dominic to stop? Would he stop? Had Kevin been stupid enough to let some rapist into his apartment?

Maybe.

And the sex was so hot. That was really making things harder to figure out. Because the thought of waking up to Dominic's demanding needs had Kevin all kinds of aroused. "Maybe I am a fucktoy."

There was a low chuckle above him.

Kevin's cheeks immediately flushed hot, because he recognized that laugh. He looked up to see Dominic standing at the register. "You look troubled."

"I am troubled!" Kevin stood up, the stool he had been sitting on screeching backwards. With the pounding of the arcade music, he didn't even need to lower his voice. "Are you some psycho? Are you gonna rape me?"

Dominic considered Kevin with a frown, and then reached up to scratch his nose. "Ok," he said with a level tone, "I'll say this one time: I would find it highly fucking embarrassing if the bitch I was with hated what was happening, ok? I go in for enthusiastic, or not at all."

With that, he suddenly shot his hand forward and gripped Kevin's shirt collar, dragging him close. "Now," he said, his voice low, his lip curled seductively. "I get the feeling you're fucking enthusiastic for the rough shit. And also for the Daddy shit. For the exact opposite of what I want. Now doesn't that work out perfect?"

Kevin gulped, his cock hard. "What do you want?" he breathed.

Dominic's smirk widened. "Like I said. The opposite of what you want. I want a bratty little bitch, giving me lip and then squealing when I put you in your place."

Heart skipping a beat, Kevin fought the urge to moan then and there. "I'm not that, though," he said raggedly, "I'm definitely not some club twink brat. Too old, for one thing."

At that, Dominic's eyes darkened. "You saying I don't know what I'm talking about?" The words were tight and filled with menace.

Kevin was close to shaking. He could feel Dominic's knuckles against his throat. "No," he said weakly.

The grip on his collar loosened. "I thought not." And then Dominic let go of him and pulled back. "When do you get off?"

"Around midnight?" Kevin replied.

Dominic's smirk was back. "Then expect a visit tonight." There was a dark promise in his words as he leaned forward again to say close to Kevin's ear, "And you can just toss and turn, wait up as long as you can, you little shit, cuz I'm not turning up till you're asleep."

Just as quickly, he pulled away again, and before he left, he said loud enough for anyone to hear: "You're gonna wake up to my palm bruising your tight ass, baby."

* * *

 

 

 

[Find me at tumblr :) ](http://saynto-fic.tumblr.com/)

 


	4. Chapter 4

Dominic took a drag from his cig and narrowed his eyes as he watched Kevin stumble into that cheap ass apartment building—AKA the first thing that was gone if this turned into a long term arrangement.

Tossing the cig out of his car window, Dominic shoved his door open and stepped out. He strode across the street, hands in his pockets. Last time he had checked his watch, it said one AM. This little bitch was gonna get it for making him wait.

He picked the lock easy and crossed the dark lobby towards the stairs. He could hear Kevin still loudly and clumsily making his way up, that stupid bitch… the kid was getting drunk every night. His breath always smelled like shit, and he was too sloppy.

At the right floor, Dominic stopped the staircase exit from closing after Kevin went through, watching in the darkness as the loser tried to fit a key into his apartment's doorknob. "Shit," Dominic heard Kevin mutter, switching to a different key.

 _Heh._ Dominic eased into the hallway, letting the door gently shut behind him. Defenseless little shitstain was just asking to be reamed.

He waited for just the right moment, Kevin finally getting the door open and lurching inside, before he moved forward and slipped inside just before the door slammed shut. In front of him, Kevin took slow wobbly steps as he shimmied out of his tight jeans and ripped shirt. Under the dim, flickering light, Dominic saw that bony tattooed body and licked his lips.

Earlier at the arcade, when Kevin had mentioned some bullshit about being too old, Dominic had nearly laughed in his face. Twenty, or twenty-nine, this kid was a brat to the bone.

Dominic followed quietly, his eyes narrowed on his prey. In the bedroom, Kevin had collapsed on his bed in the nude, only putting in enough effort to shuffle forward on his belly until he could reach a pillow. His cute ass… so perky. Dominic just wanted to slap it good.

In fact, he groaned at that thought and palmed his crotch. "Hey little bitch," he murmured. He saw the way Kevin tensed, and Dominic grinned. "How drunk are you?"

Kevin rolled a little until he could look over his shoulder at Dominic. His eyes were unfocused. "Why?" he asked.

That one word was infused with just the right amount of surly, pouty brattiness to make Dominic growl, his cock thickening.  _Fuck it._ He didn't care if Kevin was smashed. He strode forward and grabbed the kid by the ankle, and dragged him back—huffing when he heard Kevin squeal with fear. "Why?" he echoed mockingly. "Because I'm about to tear you apart right now you little cocksucker, so you better pass the fuck out if you don't want that to happen."

Instead of playing dead like Dominic half expected him to, Kevin started hissing and scratching like a fucking cat, leaving burning, bloody lines down Dominic's hand. "Fuck," Dominic laughed, impressed. He held Kevin at arm's length until he could get the kid on his belly, and then quickly dealt out ten sharp blows to that perky ass, Kevin grunting with each one, the fight quickly sucked out of him.

"Daddy—" Kevin finally cried.

Dominic paused, his cock jerking at that pitiful mewl. "Daddy's angry," he murmured, landing another smack. A beautiful red blush had spread across Kevin's ass cheeks by then. "I never said you could leave marks."

"I'm sorry," Kevin replied, his voice a quiet huff. "You… surprised me."

There was some soberness to those words, and Dominic eased back. "When did you get drunk?"

"I bought some stuff at the store on my way back."

Dominic sat back on his haunches and sighed. This is what happened when little brats were allowed their licences—or any freedom for that matter. "Get on you knees," he said.

Kevin was slow to obey, but eventually he did. His shoulders were slumped and he rested his hands in his lap. He looked… tired. And well, Dominic wanted to fuck, but he liked fucking squirmy, whiny sluts and not sullen, tired brats (usually). His arousal flagged. "You're gonna be a high-maintenance bitch, aren't ya?"

He saw Kevin blush. "I'm sorry—I just, I can totally fuck right now—"

Dominic was already stretching out of his jacket. "No," he grunted. "You'd be a suckylay right now anyway."

By the time Dominic was down to boxers, Kevin was definitely drooping. "Like a goddamn toddler," Dominic muttered, dragging that—admittedly—light body up with him until they were both resting on pillows.

Kevin snored.

And Dominic wasn't no saint. He may have stuck a couple of digits in to hear the boy whimper in his sleep, may have rubbed his cock against Kevin's cute little beer belly till he shot his load.

No harm. No foul. Just Dominic getting his.

**#-#-#-#**

The morning was a different story.

Fresh out of niceness, Dominic woke Kevin with a charming little lick of the belt. The cry that followed was like music to Dominic's ears.

He set the belt aside and leered at his boy, at those brown eyes wide with fear. "Get in the shower," Dominic said, all smiles and teeth, but he could almost feel the way Kevin shivered. Not a second passed before that boy was up and out of bed, skittering down the hallway. Dominic lounged back, enjoying the sight of that one bright pink stripe across Kevin's ass.

His cell phone buzzing on the nightstand broke the moment. Snarling, he brought it to his ear. "What?"

"Hey, Dom."

 _Fuck._ Marcus. The last douchbag Dominic wanted to be talking to when he was about to enjoy some one on one time with a cute, hungover little brat. "Listen, Marcus," Dominic drawled, "I have a piece of tail waiting for me all primed and ready, can we talk later?"

There was a low chuckle over the line. "Oh, yeah? What flavor?"

Dominic thought of Kevin's pasty skin. "Sweet vanilla."

"Oh, yeah?" There were sounds in the background, like Marcus was outside on a city street. "Why don't you bring sweet vanilla over to my hotel and give me a taste too?"

Dominic suddenly pictured Kevin spread wide for Marcus. "You that hard up?" he snapped.

There was a pause, and Dominic wondered if he had gone too far. Marcus was his boss, after all. "Not hard up," Marcus said finally, sounding vaguely amused. "Just thought it would be fun to share."

Dominic nearly growled. "And why is that?"

"I heard you were into boys," Marcus replied bluntly. "And then I pictured fucking a boy with you, Dominic. Wouldn't that be fun?"

Well. Dominic had to admit that the image of Kevin spread wide for this bastard  _and_ Dominic at the same time had his blood pumping. But this arrangement with Kevin was new, and definitely the brat wasn't showing signs of being a seasoned danger junkie, so Dominic just pulled himself back a little bit from that fantasy. "This one is soft," he said with a friendly tone.

"Got it." Marcus sighed. "Let me know if that changes." He sighed, and then continued, "but I do want to meet up tonight so we can talk. You free?"

Dominic grunted in affirmation, scowling as his plans to fuck Kevin all day and into the next morning were shot in one blow. "Where?" he said, reaching over to Kevin's nightstand and grabbing a pen and notebook that were lying there. He snorted at the doodles of winged cocks in the margin—little homo only had one thing on his mind.

Under some scribbled writing about arcade game repairs, Dominic jotted the address and time where Marcus wanted to meet, and when he finally hung up, Dominic lazily tossed his phone to the side, his mind back on the matter at hand: namely the boy waiting for him in the shower.

In the bathroom, he sneered. The place was disgusting, clothes pushed into corners, towels bunched on wracks, trash over-flowing. "Christ," he muttered. He pulled the shower door open and there was Kevin waiting for him, water dripping down his pale skin, beading at cute pink nipples. Dominic wanted to tweak those nipples and force Kevin to apologize for leaving him out to dry.

"Fuck off, dude."

Dominic arched an eyebrow, one thumb paused under the band of his boxers to pull them down. Scowling, Kevin had backed himself up against the wall of the shower, arms wrapped around his middle. Even with the water running, Dominic could see tear streaks under his bloodshot eyes.

"You still drunk?" Dominic asked lazily, going back to undressing.

"No—" Kevin inched as far from Dominic could, which left him under the showerhead, his face obscured by falling water. "—and I'm serious, fuck off."

Dominic slowly rested one arm up against the shower's door frame, flicking his thumb. "I want you to listen very closely: I have a  _one time_  rule. That means you're allowed to be rude, bitchy, and give me attitude  _one_  fuckingtime before you spell out what the problem is. You do it again? I lose my temper."

Temper or not, Dominic's cock was already popping wood. He always did get hot when tossing out threats.

Kevin didn't say anything, but he did seem to flinch, his hands hidden behind his ass.  _Oh._ Dominic thought with a bored expression. "You pissed about the wake up call?"

At that, Kevin's face flushed red and his eyes flashed.

 _Bingo,_ Dominic thought with amusement, stepping into the shower and cornering Kevin under the spray which obviously had been tilted for his shrimpy stature. The water hit Dominic straight in the chest.

He caged Kevin with his arms and smirked down at him. "Want me to kiss it better?"

Kevin had his palms pressed back against the shower wall, and his whole body was rigid. His  _whole_ body, Dominic noticed, eyeing that sweet, pretty cock already sitting at half mast and reaching forward to circle it with his fingers. Gasping, Kevin grasped Dominic's shoulders, arching towards him.

The change in his expression was instant, from surprise to anger. He grabbed Dominic's wrist with both hands and hissed, "let go of me!"

"Well that's the third time you've given me attitude," Dominic replied. He kind of liked the feeling of those slender fingers trying—uselessly—to get his hand to do anything other than remain firmly around Kevin's cock. He squeezed, hard.

"Fuck!" Tears sprang at the corners of Kevin's eyes. He immediately let of of Dominic, and raised his open palms as if on instinct.

He looked so worn out, and also close to sobbing by that point. "Just how much did you drink?" Dominic asked, clasping Kevin's chin with his other hand and turning his face from one side to the other. Dark circles under the eyes, sallow skin, and dry, cracking lips.  _This shit-for-brains._ Going from vain gym twinks to barely functioning loser was turning out to be an experience.

"None of your fucking business." That was said in the kind of growl one would expect from Chihuahua confronted with Dobermanns.

It only took three steps of wet, sloppy grappling to force Kevin out of the shower and bend him over the sink.

He was hollering like a stuck pig, but Dominic didn't give a shit. He wasn't in the mood for negotiation, and settled in for a nice, long session of spanking Kevin's asscheeks. The kid looked so pale and bony like that under the harsh bathroom light, his skin pebbling with goose bumps and the ridges of his spine sticking out down his back.

The struggling didn't last long. Kevin went slack within minutes and stayed quiet as Dominic tanned his ass. When it was over, he sank to his knees on the bathroom tiles, wiping at his nose.

Dominic stood there for a minute and then checked his watch.

"You bastard…" he heard Kevin mutter.

Kneeling down, Dominic grasped Kevin's chin again and turned the kid's face until a bitten, split lip came into view, glistening with blood. With a sigh, he swiped his thumb across the wound.

Kevin's entire body was flushed red and he was trembling. His cock sat shriveled and pathetic on his balls and when he seemed to notice Dominic staring, he closed his knees together and pressed his hands down against his lap.

Eyelids lowered, Dominic frowned. He had been expecting a stiffy, and he reached down to pry Kevin's hands away before gently cupping his cock and balls in his palm.

Dominic was not a sentimental man, but the sight of such a cute cock all scared and trying to hide from him was ruining his mood. Leaning close, he pressed a kiss against Kevin's temple.

"Get out."

He withdrew, standing up.  _You agreed to this, baby_ was on the tip of his tongue, but he held back. Maybe he really had gambled wrong with Kevin, maybe he should have stuck with the adrenaline-high loving twinks. Well, whatever. There were always more fish in the sea.

**#-#-#-#**

"Dom, how's it going?"

Marcus looked right at home leaning back against the red circular booth seat, both his arms hanging over the shoulders of some seriously attractive boys. They looked young enough not to worry about carbs, and Dominic was pretty sure he saw some concealer over a pimple.

He slid down on one side of the booth, bringing an unlit cig to his lips and flipping the lid to his lighter. This wasn't a gay joint, so Marcus must have imported the tail.

"Not fucking great," Dominic answered belatedly, snapping his fingers at a passing waiter. After ordering a drink, he turned to face Marcus who was already flushed.

"Sweet vanilla?"

Dominic pulled the cig from his lips and exhaled a puff. "A little too vanilla."

The two boys beside Marcus tittered. They were cute, and it was clear how hot being under his arms was making them. They kept running their palms down his suit-covered chest, fingering his no doubt astronomically expensive tie.

But Dominic wondered what they were doing there, when Marcus said this meeting was about business. He raised his eyebrows in question.

"You like 'em?" Marcus asked. "I've got a room booked upstairs."

 _Ah._ A few pieces clicked into place for Dominic. Marcus liked fucking in tandem. Probably got off on watching another guy dominate while he was dominating his own little twink. Probably liked double-teaming some poor cutie more, but he brought these almost twins as a compromise to Dominic.

"They're ok," Dominic said. His drink was delivered and he took a swig, his eyes stuck on Marcus. Was having a thing for boys actually going to be an advantage this time around? Dominic had no qualms being a fuck tourist with Marcus, if it meant his place in the group was more secure. Hell, he'd probably be into it anyway.

"You're horrible," one of the boys said to him, daring to run a hand down his arm. Dominic just smirked and took another sip from his glass.

He heard the two boys whispering, and looked up. They were eyeing something past his shoulder and scowling. Dominic definitely heard the words "fat gut".

He looked around. And then he nearly choked on his drink.

Kevin was standing there in some tight  _tight_ black jeans and a mesh shirt. His cute little beer belly was displayed quite openly and Dominic found himself growling. Pushing his drink to the side, he stood and stalked over to the hostess stand where Kevin was looking exceedingly lost.

He clamped his hand down on Kevin's arm and wide eyes looked up at him. "Dominic—"

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Dominic snarled.

Kevin looked down. "Uh.."

"You want everyone to see your tits, huh?" Dominic said, his tone mocking as he tweaked one of Kevin's nipples. He heard the hostess gasp beside him.

Kevin looked shocked for a second, and then a surly look crossed his face. "Tits? Seriously?"

Dominic wanted to smash their bodies together right there, wanted to drag Kevin's legs up and feel Kevin's arms wrap around his neck. Dominic was just… so fucking happy to see that attitude again.

"Look," Kevin said, waving his hand dismissively and shifting his weight. "I thought about shit, and I  _know_  you were really clear on what you're about—and I had agreed to it. So I actually wanted to uh, say thanks that you backed off today anyway. And to apologize."

He cupped the back of his neck. "I was just… still drunk, and scared. This morning wasn't fun."

Dominic didn't normally  _feel_ things, but when he did—the first thing he felt instinctively right then was that Marcus had seen Kevin.  _That_  struck Dominic straight to the core. He wanted to hustle Kevin out of there immediately, but that would be even more suspicious. This little brat was a lot of trouble. The second feeling was some weird, nauseous mix of fucking affection and lust. Because he really just wanted to fuck Kevin, but there were bigger issues at play.

"Look," he growled under his breath, "you fucking airhead." Kevin's eyes widened, but Dominic tightened his grip on his arm. "You, of course, had to show up here, didn't you? Ok, so this is gonna happen: you're gonna walk with me to that table over there and you're gonna sit on my lap and be real sweet. Do not say a fucking word."

He dragged Kevin closer, seeing the confusion and protest in his expression. " _Sweet_. Do you understand?"

Kevin nodded, his face going pale. Dominic could imagine what his own face looked like.

He turned and went back to Marcus's table, Kevin on his heels like a good little puppy. He sat down and held his arm out, not bothering to look up at Kevin. When he felt the weight of a perky ass sliding across his thighs, he wrapped his arm around Kevin's waist. A cheek rested against his neck.

"Well," Marcus chuckled.

Dominic smirked at him.

The two twinks were scowling.

"Can I order your friend a drink?" Marcus asked, holding his hand up to flag down a waiter.

"No, actually," Dominic replied with an easy smile. "He's not allowed."

A silence descended on the table, but Dominic didn't miss the flash in Marcus's eyes. "Allowed?" Marcus prompted.

"He's a sloppy drunk," Dominic said. He felt Kevin go tense on his lap.

Maybe Dominic was a little buzzed himself if he was enjoying the way Marcus looked utterly jealous at the idea of regulating a boy's alcohol intake. "Does he speak for himself?" Marcus asked.

There was a pause, Kevin sliding his hand against Dominic's chest, waiting.  _Good boy,_ Dominic thought. "Not tonight," he said.

Marcus was staring with a calculated gaze and a frown. Dominic knew Marcus was young, so he probably hadn't spread his wings yet in terms of dominating over another man. Also, Dominic wasn't sure if he hated or enjoyed the way Marcus was staring at Kevin. It was a mixed feeling, mostly because Dominic couldn't help but picture bringing Kevin up to that promised hotel room and seeing just how well Dominic and Marcus worked together.

"So," Dominic said lazily. "You wanted to talk business?"

That seemed to shake Marcus. He blinked. "Right," he said, clearing his throat. But then he paused. "Actually…" His eyes were still locked on Kevin.

 _He wants to fuck my bitch._ Dominic's lip curled. He pulled Kevin tighter against his chest, earning a gasp of surprise.

Marcus's gaze had gone dark. The boys at his sides were obviously forgotten. "Look," he said, "I'd rather cover the details here."

He smirked, like he suddenly realized he had the upper hand. "So. Let's go up to my room."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"You wanna be fucked by that guy?"

Dom watched as Kevin tried to comprehend the question. "Who?"

"Him—" Dom pointed over at Marcus, who was outside paying the cabbie he'd called to take the twin twinks home. "He wants to double-team you. With me. Get it?"

Dom saw the flash of understanding in Kevin's eyes.  _There we go._  The kid crossed his arms over his chest. "And I have to do it  _sober_?"

Despite himself, Dom barked out a laugh. He'd never be able to predict what came out of this little shit's mouth. "Christ," he sighed, grabbing Kevin by the arm and leading him over to the restaurant's empty bar. He snapped his fingers at the waiter, who had been tallying up tips. "Make whatever he wants."

The waiter nodded, and Dom left Kevin in his hands.

Next stop was Marcus. Before going up to a room, Dom wanted to know what exactly he had in mind. There was partying, and then there was  _partying._ Marcus might try to slip something nasty to Kevin, who, being such a fucking idiot, would take what was offered without question. If that happened, Dom was liable to break some fucking skulls. He could feel it.

Outside, the two sullen twins were being ushered into a cab. Marcus shut the door, and the car pulled away just as Dominic walked up. He smoothly drew a lighter from his pocket and spun the igniter, holding the flame up to a cig Marcus had just popped into his mouth.

"Listen," Dominic said.

Holding up a finger, Marcus exhaled a puff of smoke, and then glanced over Dom's shoulder towards the restaurant. "Tell me he brings that attitude to bed."

 _You don't know shit about his attitude,_ Dom nearly growled. He stuffed his hands into his pockets instead. "He's fun."

"I bet. And you're letting him drink after all."

Dominic nearly smirked. He had no idea Marcus would get so hard-up over the idea of controlling some fairy's alcohol intake.  _Find your own loser,_ he wanted to say. Now all Dom wanted to do was bust Kevin's ass for showing up uninvited and creating this mess for the both of them. Maybe that would really get Marcus off: witnessing the total annhilation of Kevin's asscheeks courtesy of Dom's belt.

He cleared his throat, and shifted his junk.

Marcus caught him, exhaled one last cloud of smoke, and grinned. "Let's go fuck the little thing, shall we?"

Matching smile for shark-toothed smile, Dom held his arm out towards the door.

#

There was something cute about how Kevin had no fucking clue who he was talking to.

Cigar in one hand, glass of whiskey in the other, Dom watched with hooded eyes as Kevin and Marcus laughed over whatever-fuck baseball team played for the city. All three of them were perched within inches of each other on the hotel room's couch. If Kevin was at all self-conscious about the fact that he was in a thin fishnet top while both Dom and Marcus were in three piece suits, he didn't show it.

He was doing well, actually. A lesser brat, when flanked by two guys like Dom and Marcus in a locked room, would have booked it. But Kevin wasn't letting on that Marcus looked like he could snap his neck, and he wasn't letting on that he knew, eventually, the two thugs staring him down would soon be pounding his ass into oblivion.

And because Dom wasn't immune, he found himself circling the prey just as much as Marcus was. In fact, it was becoming increasingly amusing to tag-team Kevin like this—closing in on him until he had less space than the middle seat of a minivan.

"Try this," Dominic said, handing over his cigar, then catching Marcus's eye as Kevin took it and wrapped his cocksucking lips around it for a long inhale.

"Wow, man," Kevin said, exhaling. "That's nice."

"It's expensive."

Kevin snorted. "You know, you sound like a complete jackass when—"

Dominic slapped a hand over his mouth, took the cigar, and dropped it on the coffee table ashtray. Amid a string of muffled curses, he then shoved Kevin's face down into Marcus's lap.

He leaned in real close. "What did you call me?" He pressed Kevin's cheek against Marcus's growing boner. "Did you just call me a jackass?"

Marcus's hand appeared, fingers stroking through Kevin's hair. "Last guy who called  _me_  a jackass lost a finger."

Dom shot Marcus a glance. His face was flushed, his entire focus locked on Kevin.

"Gag yourself on that," Dom said, pushing Kevin's face extra hard against Marcus's bulge.

He walked away. He was amped up and needed to move around the room. When he heard sloppy slurping sounds and low moans, he glanced over to see Kevin, knees on the floor, inhaling Marcus's cock. With one hard jerk, Marcus had him choking, drool running down his chin, but he kept going.

"Jesus," Marcus laughed, fingering the multitude of piercings attached to Kevin's ear. Dom knew what he was thinking—who was this piece of trash? There was nothing clean, smooth, nor supple about Kevin.  _And yet, and yet_.

And yet Marcus was the one stuffing Kevin's throat.

Dom strode over to them, grabbed Kevin by the arm and tossed him towards the bed. "Get undressed," he growled, chest tight. He didn't bother looking at Marcus, but he could sense the slight annoyance wafting in his direction.

Well, he was fucking annoyed too. "You're moving too slow," he snapped at Kevin, who had gotten drunkenly tangled in his top. Dom ripped it open from the arm, the flimsy material giving way easily. Then he pushed Kevin on his back, and went for his pants, dragging them down.

He paused. "What the—"

In front of him, was Kevin's hairless crotch. And he hadn't even done  _that_ right. There was stubble, more than a few strays, and a barely healed cut on his pasty skin.

"Nice," Marcus murmured next to Dom, nearly shoving him out of the way.

Dom didn't move. He looked up at Kevin's face. "You  _shaved_?"

Even he knew his voice was weird. It was a mix of choked laughter, because of course this trainwreck of a brat had done something so totally fucking ridiculous like shaving his pubes to impress Dominic—and fury.

Dom grabbed Kevin's ankle and yanked him a little. "You shaved?" he repeated, voice lower now. And more dangerous.

What had Dominic done during this entire stupid-ass  _thing_ going on between them that said it was okay for Kevin to do something like change his downstairs situation without permission? Did the kid not understand how this arrangement worked? Or was he just gagging so hard for a beating that he'd risk Dominic snapping his neck?

Dom grinned at the way Kevin had gone totally pale. Mind reader, that one.

He heard Marcus hum in thought. "Another rule?"

 _Damn._ Dom had forgotten he was there. "No, no…" Suddenly it seemed very important to keep Marcus from getting any more interested in Kevin than he already was. "Just wasn't expecting the pink snail look."

"Hey!" Kevin squeaked.

Dom smacked him right on the cock, and he let out the loudest little yelp, curled away and practically tried to crawl away up towards the pillows while cursing like a sailer. Dom didn't let him.

Kevin was trembling as Dom jerked him back, but still managed to scream, "I did it for you asshole! You're a total fucking psycho! I hate you—"

Consequences be damned, Dom spanked him once on the ass, hard enough to get him to shut up, and vicious enough for Kevin to know he meant business. Then he wrapped the kid up real tight in the hotel comforter, and tossed him over his shoulder like a dead body. Not that Dom had any experience with that.

"Listen," he said. "Let's do this another time."

Marcus was smiling a knowing smile at him. "Sure thing."

 _Fuck._ Dom turned and left the room, keeping a firm grip on Kevin. This was the first time he'd ever been forced to show his cards to a boss, and for that—he was gonna make Kevin pay.

#

"No, no, wait," Kevin whined as Dom lowered him down. He cried out as Dom's cock pushed into him.

"It's fine," Dom replied, voice tight. The little bastard was so worried about what the damn driver thought of them fucking in the back seat that he was trying to squirm his way out of it. "What do you think I pay him for?"

He slapped Kevin's cheeks a little to get him moving. The little shit whimpered and tightened his arms around Dom's neck. Finally, he started to wiggle a bit, pumping his hips up and down.

Dom smirked and eased back, widening his legs while leaving a hand on Kevin's waist.  _That's more like it._

Kevin's breath stuttered. "You're a dick," he grated out.

"I just saved your ass from getting split, and that's all you have to say to me?"

"You didn't save shit, look at me now."

Dom grinned, and then grabbed Kevin's cock. "By the way, who said I wanted to see you looking like a toddler?"

"Gross." Kevin scowled at him, but the effect was lost behind flushed cheeks and parted lips. "I don't look like a damn toddler. I just know that, you know, you like those hairless twink guys, like the guys at the restaurant…" As he trailed off, he gripped Dom's shoulders to ride harder, and looked away. "Who—" he panted, "—was that guy?"

Whatever good feelings Dom was experiencing from being ridden and from hearing Kevin mumble about wanting to do things for him disappeared. "Marcus. My boss. And now you're in his fucking crosshairs."

He knew he couldn't blame Kevin, even though he wanted to. The kid had no idea who Dom was, and who Marcus was, and he only showed up to the restaurant to fix things.

"I'm sorry," Kevin said.

Dom shook his head, slowly jacking Kevin's cock. "I'm more pissed about you shaving."

"Jesus! Let it go—"  _Smack._ Kevin was cut short, crying out after Dom slapped his ass.

"Listen to me," Dom said, reaching up to cup one hand around the back of Kevin's neck. "You don't get to do shit like that anymore, got it? Shaving, haircuts, anymore of—" He fingered Kevin's tit piercing. "—these. It all goes through me  _first_."

That seemed to put the kid into a thoughtful silence. He'd stopped moving his hips, but he did place his palms flat on Dom's pecs. "You gonna apologize, though?" he asked, tone sulky.

Dom felt a little indulgent, maybe. "For what?"

He liked the way Kevin looked then: mid-fuck, embarrassed because of the driver, and sobering quickly. Despite an obvious attempt not to, he was also pouting. "For hitting me so much when I was drunk, and obviously I didn't fucking want that—"

"Shh, sh.." Dom held a finger to those rosy lips. "I'm sorry."

Some assholes thought the only way to win was through brute force. Obviously they had never seen the slight quiver, the wetness of desperate eyes, the full surrender of someone wanting only to know that their feelings had been heard. Kevin sniffed once, and then slumped bodily against Dom's chest. "You're an asshole."

"I know," Dom murmured, petting him. "Yes, I am. I'm sorry,  _piccolina_."

Melted. Like a puddle. Kevin was soft, gooey sex in Dom's arm, his hole clenching around Dom's cock. He obviously caught some bee in his bonnet, because the next thing Dom knew, Kevin was pumping up and down precision of a pogo stick. God, he was a mess. He had shaved his fucking cock and balls to win Dom back. That was the type of clinginess that Dom had vowed would never wet his dick. He did  _not_ stick his cock in crazy.

"Hold me tighter!" Kevin demanded.

 _Well, I'm fucked,_ Dom thought to himself as he did.

#

"Dude, where do you score your shit? You look like you've seen the future."

From his place slumped over the arcade counter like a dead fish, Kevin glanced up with dry eyeballs, and stared at Mike. How easy life used to be, when teenage stoners were the only thing that really got Kevin going. Now all he could think about was abusive daddys with shady business partners.

"Ugh...fuck."

What had been that guy's name? Marcus? He was obviously shady as fuck. But also loaded.

"Oh," Mike chuckled. "Bad shit?"

Kevin waved him away and slipped his noise-cancelling headphones back on, the incessant sounds of the arcade fading. He rubbed his face. He thought about how Dom had so gently fucked him all night long, kissing away his tears and shushing away his complaints. It was all bullshit, and he knew it.

He had to grin, though. Maybe forcing Dom to go slow, and love him sweetly was some excellent revenge for treating Kevin like shit.

 _This would be a good time to end it,_ Kevin thought to himself suddenly. Pride-wise, he was on an upswing, but he knew it could only go downhill from here. Plus, he wasn't quite sure he was cut out for this smooth, hairless thing. His balls really itched.

The question was: did he want to give up on any possible future hard, hot, fast fucking for the sake of winning against Dom? Or did he want to make sure they hooked up again?

He pulled a squished cig from his jeans and lit it up. He'd leave the problem for another day, or whatever. The ball was in Dom's court anyway.

While Kevin was imagining how Dom might break into his apartment and fuck him next, two men came through the door. They were kinda bulky, wearing almost identical jackets, and definitely were not there to play arcade games. "You guys twins?" Kevin asked, sliding the headphones off again.

"Cute," one of them said, not looking at Kevin. He was glancing around the arcade, his hands in his pockets. "You Kevin Winters?"

"Why?"

"City planning says Kevin Winters owns this lot."

"The lot, the building, yeah. It's mine."

They both looked at him then, sizing him up. For some reason, Kevin felt compelled to sit upright.

One of the goons slipped a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out what looked like a business card. He slapped it on the counter and pushed it forward. Kevin could just make out, from under the guy's meaty finger, some sort of logo and  _ **Abelli Construction**_. Kevin had seen that name around before on billboards and construction sites, but he'd never really paid attention to it.

He looked up at the guy. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Take it. Consider it."

"Consider what?"

The second guy scoffed and thumbed his nose as he mumbled something about Kevin being an idiot. The guy in front of Kevin rested an arm on the counter and leaned forward. "The world's moved on from all these old games, right? Not many kids come around here?"

Already on edge, Kevin was now feeling a little sick. He noticed Mike hovering behind one of the PacMan's and watching them with more focus than Kevin had ever seen in the stoner's eyes. Hopefully he'd stay hidden and not cause trouble.

"So," Kevin said, flipping the business card up and holding it in front of the goon's face. "Abelli Construction wants me to know arcade games are on the way out? Can I get that in writing?"

The man smirked. He then took the card from Kevin and flipped it around. There was a phone number written on the back. "Didn't say nothing about Abelli, didn't say they have anything to do with this conversation. I'm just giving you my number. And I'm telling you to consider some things."

With that, he snapped his fingers at the other guy and they both sauntered out.

"Shit, man! Shit!" Mike gasped as he ran up to Kevin. "Do you owe those guys money? They looked like some bad news, man. Shit."

Kevin took the card and crammed it in his pocket. "No, I don't owe them money. Look, Mike, if you run into those guys, don't play tough with them okay? I don't care if you answer any questions they have about me, got it?"

Nodding, Mike seemed to chill a little. "Yeah, dude."

Well, this was a thing. Kevin hadn't ever expected to run into problems stemming from the arcade. It was his free and clear, after all. So why was a construction company sending muscle over to get in his face?

With a sigh, Kevin put the headphones back on.

#

After several failed attempts, Kevin finally got his door open by nestling his can of beer in the crook of one arm, and his bag of In-N-Out in the other.

Then he froze.

The lights were on—which was normal, he never remembered to turn that shit off. But there was also jazz music wafting around his apartment, which was all kinds of wrong. Kevin was a metalhead.

He set the beer and burgers down and went to his room. The door was slightly ajar, and very nervously, he pushed it open. When he saw what was laid out on the bed, his mouth went dry.

There was a towel laid out, and next to it on his nightstand was a bowl of steaming water, a dish of what looked like soap, and a really fancy-looking razor.

"You're late—hopefully not because you've been drinking."

Kevin swung around and nearly bit his lip.

Dominic stood in the hallway, another towel wrapped around his waist, hair dripping onto his broad shoulders. "Now get your ass undressed and on the bed."

"What, um. What?"

Dark eyes shining, Dominic slowly smirked. He stalked forward and grabbed Kevin by the junk. "We're doing this again," he said in a sharp whisper. "And we're doing it right this time."

When Kevin didn't answer immediately, Dom cocked an eyebrow. Kevin quickly nodded. His heart was racing. Dom took his by the upper arm and shoved him towards the bed, he stumbled a little but managed to right himself before climbing over the towel and reaching for his fly.

From behind him, Dom said, "I want you on your back, knees up, legs spread wide. Got it?"

Voice shaking, Kevin managed to say, "Yeah," as he jerked his pants down.

He didn't hear anything for a moment, was about to turn around, but then felt something ice-cold press against the back of his neck. He squeaked.

"What did I say about drinking?"

It was Dom holding his beer. Kevin, stupidly, reached for it. The next thing he knew, a sharp smack landed across his cheek.

"Shit—motherfucker!" He glared up at Dom, nursing his stinging cheek. "What the fuck?"

Dom was smiling faintly. "Oh, you didn't like that?" He drew Kevin's hand away and pressed the beer against his cheek. "Then follow the fucking rules."

For a moment, Kevin wanted nothing more than to start screaming, to start shoving Dom, still naked, out of the apartment. He deserved it. But Kevin couldn't ignore his now raging hard-on, or the way Dom was looking at him with thinly-veiled affection. This fucking creep fucking liked Kevin.

Dom set the beer aside and then tugged Kevin's shirt up over his shoulders. He threw it in the hamper. "Do the rest yourself," he said as he strode around the bed to the nightstand and started messing with the stuff he'd laid out.

Kevin struggled out of his pants and briefs, and kicked them on the ground. He laid back on the towel, drew his knees up as ordered, his skin vibrating. He kinda felt like he was at a doctor's exam.

Something landed on his belly and he grunted. It was the fast food bag. He pulled out his double cheeseburger and started munching.

"Well, aren't you distractible?"

Too late, Kevin realized Dom was now standing over him with razor in hand. He closed his legs so fast, his knees knocked together.

Dom laughed. "Up and open. I want to see your asshole."

Blinking, Kevin wiped some mustard from his lips. "Seriously?"

"I could always tie your ankles to the headboard if it's too much work."

With a dry swallow, Kevin drew his knees up again, and spread wide. He could practically feel his cock shrivel under Dom's dark scrutiny.

But then Dom's expression stiffened as his gaze met something on the ground. His entire body, it seemed, suddenly became dangerously tense. He knelt down, disappearing from Kevin's view, and when he came back up, he was holding the Abelli Construction business card between his fingers. When he spoke, the humor was gone, and each word was said with tight, barely-held restraint. "When did he contact you?"

Kevin knew he was in serious shit. He just had no clue why. "Who?"

Suddenly the card was being pressed against his face. "Don't fucking  _who_ me like some innocent bitch, fucker. I'll only ask one more time—when did he contact you?"

Before Kevin could speak, Dom kept going: "Did you two fuck? Did he take you somewhere nice? Must've realized you nabbed a bigger fish, huh?"

Fed up, Kevin knocked Dom's hand away and sat up straight. "Have you lost your fucking mind? I don't know who you're fucking talking about. Two huge fuckers came into my shop today like they owned the place and dropped off the card. What the fuck is it to you?"

Dom narrowed his eyes. Then he looked at the card, flipping it over. His jaw tightened. He crushed the card in his hand and tossed it over his shoulder, and then he sat on the bed with a low sigh, all previous rage gone. He dropped a heavy hand on top of Kevin's head and rubbed down to palm the base of his neck.

Finally, he said, "Sorry."

He snorted, shaking his head. "Getting fucking jealous…" Then he looked at Kevin, his lip curling. "Did you hear me? I got jealous over you."

Kevin's eyes were wide. Somehow, he felt like he wasn't quite out of the woods yet. "Okay?"

Looking supremely amused, Dom patted Kevin on the back like they were best buds. "Just saying—just giving you a warning, really. Things get a little dicey when I get attached. For you, I mean. Like I don't like being jealous. Like I'll fucking cut your balls off and turn you into my little bitch if I catch you with some other guy, you know what I mean?"

Kevin glanced at the razor Dom was still holding. "Uh...like metaphorically?"

There was a low chuckle. "Okay, you get the picture."

Suddenly Kevin was shoved back, and Dom was looming over him, one palm resting on Kevin's knee. They stared at each other.

Then, the man who had just threatened Kevin with castration lathered up a shaving cream brush and started dolloping it all around Kevin's crotch. With each stroke, Kevin shivered, his fingers digging into the comforter. He scrunched his eyes shut when Dom handled his flaccid cock, gently moving it over one way and then the other.

"No, no, wait," Kevin whimpered when he felt the lather rubbed between his cheeks, but Dom ignored him.

Heart pounding against his ribcage, Kevin tried to think about the residual taste of pickles and lettuce in his mouth rather than the ice-cold slide of a razor over his skin. When he felt Dom thumb his hole and stretch his cheeks wide open, a few tears built up at the corner of his eyes.

"Fuck," he moaned when the razor ran up along his taint. [  
](http://saynto-fic.tumblr.com/)

Going hazy, he nearly yelped when there was a smack against his thigh. "All done," Dom said to him, dragging the towel out from under his ass. "Next time you do something like that on your own, your tiny cock is going in a cage."

Dom dropped on the bed and grabbed Kevin up in a bear hug, pulling him back against his chest. "Those guys who came into the arcade," he said as he kicked Kevin's thigh up and slid his hard cock between Kevin's legs. "What did they say to you?"

"Uh—" Kevin stuttered as Dom then started nudging the head of his cock against Kevin's hole. "Something about, um. Considering something?"

There was silence, and then no warning. Dom suddenly shoved his whole dick up Kevin's ass. Kevin gasped in pain. The shaving lather had helped a little, but not enough. He panted, and slowly adjusted around Dom's cock. "Don't use me like a goddamn fleshlight," he gasped.

Dom chuckled. Then he tightened his arms around Kevin's middle and really did start hammering into him like he was a fucking fleshlight. With each stroke, Kevin grunted and moaned, his cock hardening. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he gasped, clutching onto Dom's arms.

When he reached down to palm himself, he shivered at his own smoothness. He rubbed his palm all over his front and behind his balls, addicted to the bare sensitivity.

He came first, shooting jizz all over his chest. It even hit his chin. Then he felt Dom spasm, heard him grunt, and trembled at the idea of Dom coming inside of him. They were plastered together, Kevin's back pressed against Dom's wide, sturdy chest. Their breathing evened. Dom grabbed a possessive handful of Kevin's belly and seemed to relax. He did not pull his cock out.

"Well," he said. "Guess this means you're gonna have a new tattoo."

Kevin frowned. "What?"

"Yeah." A playful smack landed on his ass, and he heard a small, amused exhale as a finger poked a spot above his crack. "Right here— _Dom's. Bitch._ "

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the new chapter :) Follow me on tumblr for background info and news- http://saynto-fic.tumblr.com/


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